The Old Man and the Sea
by Enchantable
Summary: "Why blue?" He asks finally, picking up a lock of her hair, "people think of the Kaiju when they think of blue," he says. "It's a reminder," she tells him. "It reminds me of the ocean," he admits.


**This is a reply to three prompts that got rolled into one because they all asked for Mako and Chuck's history, separation and then reunion. Also I'm crossposting because someone asked for it. **

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Chuck Hansen is not gentle.

He's rough and tumble and with every punch he likes to imagine he's got cannons in his elbows. Sometimes he gets so angry he can't see straight and even when he calms down the anger is still the realest thing he feels. On a good day he can name six things he likes and three things he loves. None of those are his father. The techs joke that he's fifteen going on fifty. Chuck just shrugs, he figures it's the only time in his life anyone will associate his age with a number that high.

Mako Mori is not delicate.

She's tiny, but she's tiny in a way she uses to her advantage. From the day her shoes touch the base she's near the Jaegers, sliding into the places that the superstitious techs can't get. She's also got hate in her, but it sparks and Mako puts it out before it can explode. It's a temporary measure, but she knows the day when she's too soft will be a terrible one. The explosion will happen and it will just go on and on and on.

They meet in the first day of the Jaeger academy.

The older candidates shake their heads. They're the second generation, even if by adoption, and words like 'no choice' and 'breeding ground' follow them around. It never occurs to the older pilots they may have their own reasons for being there. Not even when they figure out Mako is the Girl with the Red Shoe and Chuck is the consolation prize his father snatched instead of going after his mum.

Chuck likes fighting. He likes being able to channel his rage into something that will one day be productive. He doesn't say it but he's afraid of how useless he is. What a waste of space. He trains until his fingers bleed, until he's hard as a rock and his hands are all calloused like his dads. In the Kwoon, gasping for air with the remnants of wood around his feet, that's the only time Chuck feels in control. He looks at the broken things and wonders why this is easier.

Mako is sharp but she is quiet. English is still new to her tongue though Stacker is patient and practices with her as much as he can. Emotion ties her tongue in knots though and whatever she wants to say usually isn't what comes out. So Mako learns to bite her tongue instead of speaking with it. The sharp taste of copper tells her everything her words cannot. She detestes the weakness in herself and diligently practices until she's quiet enough to slip out of the room. She knows she wakes Stacker, but depending on how good she is he pretends to still be asleep.

They don't speak when they practice together. Not that they really practice together at all. He faces one way, she faces the other and together they beat things until they cannot move. Unfortunately the Jaeger academy is a breeding ground for competition. They push themselves harder, watching each other out of the corner of their eyes to see whose hitting harder and whose striking faster. They don't realize that they push each other harder or that when one falters over a busted knuckle the other will pause until they find the strength to strike out again.

He finds the staff laying out first. It's on his side of the room instead of the training dummies. He picks it up and gives it an experimental twirl. The wood is heavy in his hand and it feels rather awkward. He isn't supposed to start weapons for another month. But he brings it up in an experimental block like he's seen his dad do and it doesn't feel too bad. He tries another when Mako scurries in, still wiping the sleep from her eyes.

She looks at the staff in his hand and finds her own sitting against the wall. She grips the wood and swallows thickly at the familiarity. Her hands are bigger now, they don't struggle to wrap around the wood. They don't need the calloused, warm grip of her father's hands to place them. When she hears the whistle of wood through the air, it's easy as breathing to bring her staff around and catch the blow.

They duel clumsily on the mats. He's stronger but she's more precise. Their eyes move from the weapons to each other, unsure of where to look. They hurt each other but it's a good kind of hurt. Except when he knocks the air out of her lungs and she throws him hard enough to twist his ankle. They don't apologize but they wait for the other to hiss out a breath and silently recover. When it's over she bows precisely. It takes him two tries but he manages to return the gesture.

His world is getting better. Getting stronger, getting faster, getting to the point where his dad will look at him and he'll see that choosing him was the right choice. That his life is worth something more than a consolation prize. Puberty hits him and it becomes even more of an uphill battle because in addition to everyone else he has to deal with spots on his face, longer limbs and a cracking voice. One night his dad shows up with a brown paper bag that contains a razor and shows him how to get rid of the stubble on his face. He's even clumsier and now he has to add nicks to the party. When he shows up at the Kwoon Mako has no trouble beating him.

Women are scarce around the base. Sensei does what he can but Mako knows they have other things to worry about. More important things. He buys her a belt that is small enough and when one of the teachers appears with a kind smile and a small parcel, Mako knows he arranged for that too. She pulls on the snug garments and tightens her belt but its uncomfortable. So she trains twice as hard, but even she can see how off balance Chuck is. It frustrates her because they are supposed to be together, equally balanced and yet he's off. She drops and buries her knee in his chest for good measure.

"Be still," she tells him and he stares at her.

They do not speak. Not in class, not in the mess and definitely not in the Kwoon. They don't speak. Her voice is quiet but it's steel, it seems to echo in the darkness. He stares up at her because he can't quite fathom the fact that she's speaking and she gapes down at him because she is so bad at expressing herself in English. He opens and closes his mouth several times before he gets his voice to work.

"What?" He gets out and she blushes, certain she's said something wrong, "what do you mean be still?" He demands, "we're in a fight."

She shakes her head and drops down, pressing her hand to his chest and everything in him seems to recoil at the touch.

"Still," she repeats.

He looks up at her uncomprehendingly and Mako feels frustrated, wishing it wasn't so hard to express herself. Chuck looks at her hand and then back at her.

"How?"

He is very very bad at being still. He notices because he starts watching Mako. The Girl with the Red Shoe, Tokyo's victory daughter, Stacker's charge. She has a million reasons to stand out. But she fades into the background in a way that is just a bit too calculating to be completely natural. He watches her because that seems to be the one thing he can't do. He doesn't really want to either, but he hates the idea she's better at something than he is.

She feels him watching her. It's impossible not to since his eyes are laser sharp on her. She feels even more self conscious because no matter how loose her shirts or how compressive her bras, she still has breasts. The men are still primal and their eyes drag lower on her and she wishes she was better at disappearing.

They speak for the first time when he hears some of the men making lewd comments about a girl. Girls, really because Chuck can hear them talking about girls you pay, the kind of girls his father uses when the pain of his mom gets to be too much. They're loud and he can see Mako bent over her books, her face red and miserable as if they're talking about her. He moves towards her and drops into the seat across from her.

"Did you hear they ended the Mark IV's?" He asks loudly.

Her head snaps towards him because that's just a rumor. But his dads a drunk sometimes and a hero others but he isn't a dad so Chuck figures he can use him for something. The men quiet their conversation so he talks louder.

"They're making an Australian Jaeger first," he announces, "I'm going to pilot it."

The men laugh but Chuck doesn't give a shit what they think about him. The blush on Mako's cheeks is fading. She doesn't say anything, but he doesn't really expect her to. He isn't even really trying to. If anything it's the opposite. He's shouting at them to focus on him, for the lights to hit him. They blind him but he doesn't care. Mako is able to slip back into her shadows where she's comfortable and at the end of the day that's what matters most.

His problem is that when he starts talking he always goes to far. Always steps over the invisible line he isn't supposed to cross. It usually gets him smacked but he's never really minded pain. Pain lets you know you're alive and you've still got a chance. No pain would be worse. Problem is that Mako doesn't do any of that. She also just doesn't talk. She's the only girl on the base close to his age so he isn't sure if this is a girl thing or if she's just quiet, only that it pisses him off because she looks at him with this glint in her eyes, not disappointment or frustration and he wants to know how he does that to her but not to anyone else.

"Why don't you talk?" He blurts out one night when he's managed to pin her to the ground,

She does not like being pinned, she finds. When Sensei does it, it feels unmovable. When Chuck does it she can feel the weakness but she has no idea how to exploit it given how close they are in height. When he asks why she doesn't talk, the most she can do is glare at him. She doesn't talk because no-one wants to hear what she has to say, because the words get tangled in her mouth and spill out English and Japanese and all wrong. Mostly because every time she opens her mouth she's afraid she'll scream. She'll scream and scream and scream and never stop. Chuck holds her there and she glares harder realizing he's waiting for an answer.

"My English is bad," she says finally.

"That's bullshit," he shoots back and Mako's eyes widen because others let her have that excuse, "your English is fine."

"It is not!" She objects, finding and opening and throwing him before dropping into a text book arm bar, "it's my second language. I'm bad at it."

"That'd be more believable if you weren't talking in it right now," he grunts out before kicking up and twisting so she's caught in a headlock.

She goes to move and freezes. He frowns as he feels a tug on his wrist. He's wearing a watch so they know when the Kwoon really shuts down and the mess of black that tumbles from Mako's scalp is caught in it. He swears and angles his hand so he can get at it, but her hair just stops him. She reaches up and their fingers collide. It's frustrating as hell. Chuck glares down at her.

"This is why people don't have long hair," he snarls and she gives him a look of pure venom.

"No, that's because of lice," she snaps back.

They struggle for a minute before it becomes clear this isn't going to end well. She lets out a little sigh and moves her hands back, grabbing the pocket knife he doesn't know she carries. She slides a hand up and gently guides the blade towards the hair. Chuck winces, opening his mouth to tell her he'll do it when the blade slides neatly through her hair, freeing his wrist and the watch. He manages to get the watch off and clumsily gather the hair that she's had to cut off. It's a fair amount and when she looks up at him he swallows.

"You need a haircut," he blurts out and she toys with the edge of the knife.

His head gets shaved like his dad, like all the men on the base. But Mako's looks ridiculous right now and Chuck feels like part of it is his fault. He drops to his knees next to her and grasps the knife. She looks at him but doesn't fight as he picks up her hair, trying to slide his hand to where the shortest pieces are. Her hair is long and brittle, but things like conditioner and hair care products aren't readily available. Even so it feels like water slipping through his fingers as he gathers it and guides the knife to the spot just above his hand.

She tries not to wince as the hair falls away. What fell past her shoulderblades now hovers a good inch above her shoulders. Wordlessly she holds out her hand and takes the knife from him to slide off the long pieces in front, taking care to gather up everything. It's necessity, she tells herself. Practicality. Still she has to be quick when she bows to him and runs out of the Kwoon. She goes straight to Sensei even though it's late and knocks on the door until he opens it, his eyes alert. They go from her hair to the locks in her hand.

"It got caught," she says, shameful tears clouding her eyes.

He notices her absence immediately from morning classes. Guilt makes it hard to concentrate and he wonders if maybe girls have a way to reattach hair. But then the doors open and she ducks in and he forgets how to breathe properly. The choppy shoulder length mess is gone, replaced by a tight little bob that makes her features even sharper. Her back seat is taken but he drags his bag from the one next to him, subconsciously realizing he was saving it without meaning to. She drops into it and tucks a lock behind her ears and he sees the blue threaded in the black.

"You look nice," he mutters and half hopes she can't hear him.

She's never made someone blush before. Mako shrinks away from attention, but she's had a ton of it that morning. Sensei excuses her from morning classes and gets into a car that takes them to downtown. The beauty parlor is filled with more women than Mako can remember seeing in one place and they all seem to descend on her at once. They fuss and pluck and cut and when they step back she feels like she's been drilled into body armor. The effect is roughly the same. She feels transformed but she doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Everyone is looking at her and she wants to melt into the floor of the Shatterdome. Instead someone is sitting in her corner of the room, but Chuck's saved her a seat. And when he blushes and tells her she looks nice, Mako has to swallow back the emotion that clogs her throat.

They sit at the front of the class. Chuck always sits there because though it kills him to admit it, he's short. Mako always slinks into the back. But sitting at the front the teacher calls on her for the first time. The words that come out are soft and hesitant, but her answer is right. She knows its right but the relief she feels is overwhelming. The entire time she feels Chuck looking at her and she promises herself she'll figure out a way not to blush the next time.

He can't stop looking at her. Worse, Chuck finds, he cant stop thinking about her. He wants to run his fingers through her hair again, that and some other stuff he can't linger on. The emotions collided and explode and a part of him wants to push her away but the rest wants to hold her close. It's so bad that when Marshall Pentecost looks at him one day he sputters out an apology and can't get out of the hall without tripping over his own feet.

She feels something shift in him and it's like it shifts in her. There's a spark there and though Mako's sworn never to be afraid it terrifies her. They both have their own sparks, the ones that flicker between them seem more danger than they need. She trains harder, focuses on making her voice steady and her body stronger. She lays out longer staffs, Bo's, and they don't touch for two weeks when they meet in the Kwoon at night.

They lose the battle after three. He sweeps her legs and even if his mind says not to touch his body reacts on pure muscle memory and pins her. She twists and bucks and he finds himself under her instead. Their eyes lock and both can feel something build between them, like that spark is getting closer and closer to erupting. Control is slipping away faster and faster so they do the one thing they know how to when that happens.

She slams her fist in his eye.

He lunges forward and drives the air from her lungs.

Their precision dissolves in the wake of emotion as they hit wherever they can. They don't think about silence or secrecy or even precision. Their strikes are hard and clumsy as they roll on the mats, trying to shove the other away and pull them closer at the same time. They swear in Japanese and English, garbled barbs that barely register as they strike each other. They're so obnoxiously loud that someone gets Marshall Pentecost and Ranger Hansen. They're dragged apart still shouting at each other, fingers still itching to strike wherever they can.

He's got a black eye, a busted lip and four of his ribs are bruised.

Her arm will be in a sling for two weeks.

Neither feels more than marginally better.

They retreat to their own sides of the Kwoon again, well before the doctors say its alright. Neither looks at each other as they hit things, both feel like they've taken a huge step backwards. It's two weeks of silence, glaring and fury but they still sit together, still eat together and still meet up at night. Neither is going to surrender, of that they're sure. One night they come in to find all the training equipment is gone except for two short red hanbos, the weapons they use to text compatibility with.

Their first few blows are hard, too hard really. But going too hard is better than going too soft. They hit roughly and slowly, neither truly wanting to hurt the other. Their blows soften and quicken, meeting clumsily but meeting all the same. He blocks, she parries, he fents and she catches him. It's the closest to dancing either has ever come. When its done they bow to each other. They don't speak but it's a start.

The classes get longer, more difficult. He learns to bring food with him and always seems to toss an extra water bottle or bag of chips into his bag just in case. The Shatterdome makes an effort to support the pilots and candidates nationalities. It's a cliche but he's too addicted to Vegemite to care. When he offers a taste to Mako the look on her face nearly makes him wet himself with laughter.

She likes cooking. She doesn't have a lot of time but she enjoys it. Mostly because its the basis of the best memories she has with her parents. Cooking and creating. The orphanage never let her cook and though Sensei cannot give her a room with a kitchen, the mess hall staff is more than happy to give her a corner. When things get to be too crazy, they actually cook for her. The food she brings is packed in a dinged up old lunch box masquerading as a Bento, but its her food. Except the extra onigiri they pack in there. Chuck likes that, way more than she likes the Vegemite he makes her try in return.

They meet and spar at night but things take on a different edge. They purposely try not to touch each other. It's difficult but every time someone falls they shake their head before the other can come close. They stand far apart too. Both miss the other's closeness more than they want to admit. It lasts for as long as it takes for the staffs to vanish. Neither considers not fighting but they're careful. They fight in grips instead of strikes, hands and legs sliding over each other until they're tangled up with her legs over one of his shoulders and his hands pinning hers. They're breathing hard and looking at each other and the moment seems to go on and on.

He jumps back and shoves himself to his feet. She kicks herself up and glares at him furiously like he's done something wrong and he can't take it another second. It isn't a kiss, it's an attack of a different kid. He crushes their mouths together and backs her into the wall in the same breath. Her mouth is hard on his, after one stunned second she's matching him. It's all angry and harsh and when he breaks apart they're gasping unsteadily. He curses and slams his hand into the wall next to her head. She doesn't flinch.

"Get out of my head," he whispers hoarsely, "get out."

She's gasping unsteadily, every inch of her singing with the feel of him. Her lips feels bruised but bruised in that good way. Chucks breath is hot against her face and when he hoarsely tells her to get out of his head, she doesn't know what makes her lean forward and press their mouths together. It's less abrasive, less rough and she hears Chucks's fingers dig into the metal as his mouth moves hard against hers. But she doesn't give up and his lips soften against hers.

They kiss for a long time, pressed to the edge of the Kwoon. It's one part sweetness, two parts anger and one part determination, but its not bad. His hands remain pressed to the metal but she feels his fingers relax and his hands move closer but they only touch her when they both shove each other away. They stare at each other for a moment before leaving without another word.

It's easier to touch each other after that.

He almost likes touching her, as much as it kills him to admit that. Actually he really, really likes touching her. She's steel wrapped in velvet and he loves finding the ways their mouths fit together. When her lips part and he tentatively tastes her, it feels like the sparks behind his eyes erupt into fireworks. For the first time he's actually distracted by something other than his thoughts of revenge and glory.

She likes it when he kisses her. She likes it a lot. He's shy and hesitant one minute and the next his tongue sweeps into her mouth and she feels like she's flying. She reached out and gently fists her hands into his t-shirt. She sighs softly into his mouth and he presses her body against the wall, his hands still against the metal. She feels bold when she pushes herself into him, away from the metal and his arms wrap clumsily around her.

They stay later in the Kwoon, still fighting as much but ending it pressed together. His fingers slide under her shirt and she shudders, her head dropping to his shoulder. He hesitates until her lips press to his skin. They both bruise each other but its in a good way and neither wants to leave the Kwoon at night.

Until its closed for repairs.

He doesn't like that at all because he pretty much lives for the nights he gets to spend with Mako. Mako who lives next to Stacker Pentecost. Chuck likes Mako a lot, very very much. But he likes his skin in tact so he heads back to his darkness. He lets Max have the bottom bunk. In the darkness he wraps a hand around himself and thinks of the blue of hair and the glint in her eyes and how her body presses against his. When he hears a knock on the door he thinks he's really gone insane.

She sneaks to his room because its a Kaiju attack and Herc is out. Also Herc brings girls back to his room all the time. She's good at hiding and doesn't expect to be seen. She knocks on Chucks door and when he opens it he's flushed and his hair's in disarray. She wants to ask if he's alright but he drags her into the room and closes his mouth over hers and Mako doesn't care if she gets sick. His hands are greedily on her and Mako rips her shirt off and pulls off his tank. The press of skin almost makes her whimper but then his mouth presses to her collarbone and she can't really think about making sounds.

They tumble onto the bed, laughing at Max's indignant bark as he hops off. Their bodies press against each other as their hands wander, hard touches that soften only slightly when they roam somewhere they've never touched before. It's all new and unfamiliar but it feels so good. When she arches up and her fingers press to the small of his back a sound escapes his lips.

Except it isn't a sound.

It's her name.

His dad calls him into his room one day and Chuck immediately starts sweating because that doesn't happen often. Even Max gives a nervous whimper. His father looks at him hard for a moment and then swipes a hand over his face. His eyes are red and Chuck wonders if he's been drinking.

"You grew up too fast boy," his dad says because his dad calls him boy, not Chuck like everyone else and not Charles like he and his mom used to. Then he holds out a packet like Chuck is supposed to have the first clue what to do with it, "just don't get her pregnant," he says, "you're not ready to be a father."

Chuck doesn't think his dad is ready either, but he takes the condoms all the same.

She looks at them and then at him and then back at them again. Things like sex ed aren't taught to them, mostly because the majority of other candidates know them already. They've done them already. Chuck is looking like he wants to kill his dad or drag them both down to the med bay. Mako doesn't like it when he goes all silent like this so she presses her lips to the spot behind his ear and works at the skin until his hand softens.

"Have you-" he begins and trails off when she nips at him, "Mako," he says and practically whines her name.

"Have you?" She breathes against the wet patch she's left on his skin.

"Yeah," he gets out as her hand touches his thigh.

He turns suddenly and pushes her down onto the bed. A surprised laugh escapes her lips and he revels in the notes before he covers her mouth with his and drinks them down. She throws a leg over his waist and flips them over, sitting back on him. Their years of sparring means she knows exactly where to sit so he won't move. Not that he things he could. He steadies her with one hand as she takes the packet from his other and opens one of them. The condom dangles from her fingers. Their eyes lock and they both burst out laughing at how ridiculous it looks.

She curls against him like a cat and He finds he likes the way that feels, her head over his hear and Max laying on their feet.

"Why blue?" He asks finally, picking up a lock of her hair, "people think of the Kaiju when they think of blue," he says.

"It's a reminder," she tells him.

"It reminds me of the ocean," he admits finally.

"I'm not named after a shark," she tells him.

He rolls her over and kisses her hot and slow.

"You remind me of one of those too."

They sleep together accidentally. It's raining and in the neon of the Jaeger's floodlights her hair is more blue than black. He kisses her because he can't not and she makes a little sound in the back of her throat. They undress each other clumsily, desperately. It's a messy fumble as they try to go from nothing to everything. They work together, guiding and pushing and then they're fitted together. He leans his forehead against hers as they gasp in the darkness.

Moving is strange and takes a few false starts but they manage. It's frantic and unbridled, they're both too lost in feelings for shame. Their lips press to each other as their hands roam and guide. The feeling builds and builds until they reach some invisible peak and tumble over it together.

Always together.

"You can't do this!"

"Chuck!"

"Get the hell off me! You can't do this!"

From behind his fathers arm he shouts at Stacker. The older Marshall watches him calmly, like he's some disgruntled teenager instead of the youngest Ranger in the history of the program. It's supposed to be glorious, everything he's worked for. Except that the list ends in his name. And if this dream is coming true for him it's supposed to come true for Mako. They're lock step in the training scores, equally suited to the job. Except its his name on the roster, hers is nowhere to be found. She's not on there.

She's not going with him.

"That's enough!" Herc bellows and throws him back, "go pack. We're reporting to Sydney," Chuck opens his mouth and Herc looks at him, not like a father looks at a son but as a superior officer looks at someone of a lower rank, "Go!"

She reads the news and wishes that paper could lie. But it's printed neatly in a row. A single row of tiny letters. It's staggering how much weight a tiny row can bear. Chuck is going to Sydney. He's going to be the youngest pilot in the history of the program and he's going to save the world. Mako wants to be happy for him, in some way she thinks she is. But in others the emotions are sickening. She's so angry and so so hurt. She feels betrayed even though she knows this decision was not meant as such. So when he pounds on her door, she hesitates to open it.

"Mako!" he calls through the metal and pounds again, "Mako come on, I know you're in there."

She grips the knees of her pants and isn't sure she agrees. She doesn't feel like she's in there. On the other side of the door he presses his hand to the metal and swears before hitting it again.

"Come on!" he shouts, "we have to talk about this."

She pulls open the door when she feels steady and looks up at him with a blank face.

"You should be packing," she tells him.

He stares down at her and shakes his head. Something inside Mako's chest twists and she fights to keep her face blank.

"You're going to leave things behind," she says to him.

He swears and closes the distance between them, crushing their mouths together. She fights to hold still when he grips her face. But then her hands are fisted in his shirt and he's backing her into her room and they both wish there was a way to stay in this moment forever. But there isn't. He looks at her and she meets his tortured gaze with a steady one of her own. Her lips are throbbing, aching for him but she needs to get out of this in one piece and if she keeps kissing him she can't.

"You should pack," she tells him again.

He looks at her and he realizes she isn't going to ask him to stay. She isn't going to tell him that she wants him there, that there's a way for them to figure out this mess like they've figured out every other one. She just looks at him all steady and calm and Chuck can actually feel a part of himself break. He does the only thing he can and gather's the pieces, turning and walking out.

She watches him go and hates herself for her silence. The wound in her chest screams for her to go after him. But the part of her that howls for vengeance keeps her standing there. Too emotional, too out of control, that's what the report says. She needs to be steel and right now she is not. She holds herself there for as long as she can. Then she locks herself in the bathroom and cries until it's time to see him off.

They don't look at each other. They can't look at each other. Chuck storms into the chopper that will take them to the plane, shoving past everyone without a salute. Herc gives Stacker a look that only a father could understand before following him. Mako stands in the back with the rest of the candidates and holds herself as straight as possible, letting all her goodbyes get caught in her throat.

They both feel like cowards.

He gets to Sydney and meets Striker Eureka, the most incredible Jaeger he's ever laid eyes on. He grows up and then fills out, the last of his youth falling away. Circut suits are expensive but they have to fit perfectly. Some of the techs make a joke about his growing body and he points out it isn't his fault the Marshall's so desperate to fill the rigs. He's a great pilot and somehow the anger and the rage is enough to keep his dad skimming the top of his head instead of delving too deep. Or maybe he's just wise enough not to say anything. Lost love is something Herc can understand.

She becomes steel. Folded, forged, sharpened. Steel and shadows. She takes the broken pieces and turns them outwards, all her sharp broken edges melding into an unmovable wall. She has no-one left to practice with so she sets out to tame herself. It's harder than she would like. In her darkest moments she looks at Striker Eureka's dossier and wonders if the kill count would be higher if it was her in the Conn Pod with Chuck.

It's years before they see each other again.

When they do he's a cocky pilot who walks across the deck like he fucking owns it. Max trots along at his side as he slings his duffle over his shoulder and heads towards his bunk. But then Max breaks free and races off and slides into position on Mako's boot tips, legs splayed out in a silent demand. And Mako, whose smile could light up the entire Shatterdome, just looks at him for a moment before bending down to lightly stroke his stomach.

He sees her again and he's so furious he can barely breathe. She's all shadows now. There's something hesitant about her, like the entire world may come crashing on her slight form any moment. She's still wearing clothes that are too big, her hair is still bobbed and blue streaked, but when she looks up at him her eyes are cold and hidden and he'll be damned if the first thing that doesn't spring to his mind is a shark.

She glances up to see him glaring down at her and feels herself shut off in response. He's grown up. Like the rest of the world she's watched him turn from an awkward boy into a man. Unlike the rest of the world she remembers what he was like before that. She fights to keep her gaze steady as she looks at him, watching as he gets more and more emotional as she shuts down. The symmetry of it is something even she can appreciate as she straightens and greets him formally.

"Welcome to the Hong Kong Shatterdome, Ranger Hansen," she says and he has to stop himself from attacking her.

Days later Becket appears. Washed out, washed up and not belonging.

They pair her with Becket.

Becket gets his copilots killed.

It's the first and only thought that echoes in Chuck's mind but it's so steeped in something akin to jealous he can't voice it. So he voices everything else. Points out every reason why Mako should not get in a Jaeger with someone whose very good at getting his copilots killed in routine missions, much less suicidal ones. Chuck doesn't object to dying, he objects to Mako dying with every bone in his body.

It culminates with him calling her and pretty boy Raleigh bitches.

He throws Raleigh in for good measure but the comment is directed at her. She tenses and for a second all those years just seem to melt away. He's never wanted someone to strike him so badly in his entire life. Because even if it's a strike it's physical contact and it's almost shameful how much he wants that from her. Of course Becket steps in and slugs him with a punch that forces even Chuck to reconsider how he looks at him.

She knows the comment is directed at her. Right after he calls her Raleigh's girlfriend and if she wasn't so indignant at the insult, she would ask if he was jealous. But then Raleigh slugs him because that's what you do for your copilots and the two are punching each other as hard as they can before Sensei and Herc come and rip them apart. Raleigh straightens and collects himself easily, but Chuck lunges against his father and Mako wonders how it is possible for someone to be so old and so young at the same time.

Their eyes lock at neither is prepared for what the see. Mako goes even quieter, if that's possible. All steel and shield and Chuck can't decide if he hates himself or her more for it. The anger that blazes in his eyes makes Mako not know if she wants to hit him or kiss him, just that her entire body aches to close the distance between them. But she can't move. Herc yanks Chuck away again and she's left behind again and that is how things are supposed to be.

He isn't surprised when she becomes a good pilot pretty much the second she sets foot in a Jaeger. There's nothing Mako doesn't get when she sets her mind to it, when she really wants it. Which makes all the distance between them so much more bitter. Because if she wanted him, if he'd meant anything-he has to cut the thought off before it can finish. All he can do is slick back his rain soaked hair and watch her be incredible with someone else.

She feels him watch her. In a Jaeger, in the mess, his gaze is hot on her. She doesn't met his eye. If she did she knows she would start taking and not be able to stop. She would lean on him again and he would vanish. She's got enough to do with saving the world, she doesn't need her access to be pushed off again because he's too emotional. Emotions make you weak. So she works twice as hard and looks away twice as often until it's just the four of them and he's suited up to go die with her Sensei.

They aren't all coming back. Hell, none of them are coming back and Sensei is telling her she's a brave girl. Mako wants to cry that she isn't. She's a controlled girl. There's a difference. But she can see Chuck standing there, his eyes locked on her and she blinks back her tears as much for him as for Sensei. She may not be a great Jaeger pilot but she focuses on Raleigh's memories, on her other half and she nods. She'll protect them. Chuck has no doubt.

Except she doesn't.

She can't.

No-one can.

Striker is bleeding and every part of Chuck is howling with his machine. He finally gets everything Becket's saying because he can't remember the last time he was in so much pain as the pressure presses on him and the Kaiju rip pieces off. He looks over at Marshall Pentecost and for the first time he maybe understands why he didn't want Mako in a Jaeger with him.

She begs them to hold on. It's Raleigh's voice that says it but it's Mako's words. Hold on. We can get to you. Except they can't do both. Her foot lifts to bring the Jaeger towards them but Raleigh holds it when Stacker tells them what they must do. Mako looks over at Raleigh and there's such understanding in his eyes she wants to scream. She's seen what losing a fellow pilot does to a person. She's so terrified she can barely breathe.

The sound of switches flipping over the radio makes her blood run cold. Chuck says something stupid and noble but it's more to keep his voice steady. He's hope they'll buy it. He wants to says something to Mako but doesn't know what. He's fucking terrible at goodbyes.

"You always were," she replies and shit, he realizes he's said the last part aloud.

"Not like you made them any easier," he says back because, hell, he's about to die and his fingers slow on the switches, "you couldn't even say two words."

"The wouldn't have been appropriate," she says and she sounds so much like the Mako he fell in love with he hesitates for a moment.

"Yeah?" he chuckles, "I may have deserved that fuck you," he shakes his head, "well? I'm going now. Last chance to say it."

"Stay. Please."

She says it in Japanese, in the purest version of herself and Chuck's heart seems to stop. His fingertips drag on the last switch. It's been years and years and he feels like he can't breathe. He hears her make a little choking sound and everything in him screams to get across the ocean and hug her. But he can't. Because he's never going to touch her again and suddenly the world seems far too cruel. He's supposed to die with his Jaeger, he's supposed to die a hero. He's supposed to-

"Hurry up!" Pentecost orders sternly and Chuck looks at him desperately before he realizes he's not looking at that last switch.

This is a suicide mission for a dead man.

"Don't die," he orders her, "don't you dare," he looks at Pentecost who has blood streaming down his nose but whose eyes shine with pride as he looks at him, "I'll keep an eye on them," he promises, "it's been an honor sir."

"Ranger Hansen," Pentecost rumbles, "the honor has always been mine."

It gets a little blurry after that.

He discharges the pod on Pentecost's cue and the pod rockets to the surface. He stagers up and radios the Shatterdome, trying not to react as his father's voice breaks in relief. He stares at the ocean, begging and praying and just when he thinks he's going to be sick her pod jumps up. She scrambles out and barely says she's alive before their eyes find each other. Raleigh's pod bobs up a moment later and the three of them just stare at the ocean until the choppers come and pick them up.

She can't understand everything that's happened, Mako thinks as she sits in the infirmary. Just trying to makes her head hurt. Raleigh is one bed over, unconscious and burned because he discharged her pod at the cost of his own oxygen and taking the weight of the neural suit. Sensei is dead. He was always going to be dead but the fact that he is makes it hard to swallow. She wants to be strong though. She wants to be the strong girl he's made her into.

They meet in the Kwoon.

They go there with the same intent, at the same time. He turns from the bag he's working as she slides off her shoes. When she looks up he tosses a hanbo to her and she catches it deftly. They don't go through the first motions, the declarations of intent. It's one step and their staffs meet. Their blows are hard but they're precise as they fight along the mats. She raps him hard on the shins and his staff connects solidly with her arm, but otherwise they block the other's blows.

It feels like coming home.

He's bruised and breathing hard by the end but so is she and the familiarity, the triumph, makes it easier to breathe somehow. Or maybe it's that he's finally heard something he's been hoping to hear for years. They put their staff's back and face each other and he realizes what an idiot he's been. He chuckles and she raises her eyebrows at him but he shakes his head and looks at her.

"I would have," he tells her and surprise makes her eyes widen.

"You shouldn't have," she replies, "you needed to-"

"You know what I needed," he says and takes a step forward.

She turns and presses her back to the wall of the Kwoon. She feels like she's a child again, except there's no fear in her heart. Just curiosity and an ache to pull him closer when she feels his breath on her face. His hand presses to the wall of the Kwoon but it's close enough for her to feel the side against her skin. He looks down at her and she meets his gaze steadily.

"Going to tell me to get out of your head?" she asks.

"No point," he says and ducks his.

Their lips meet again. He kisses her and it's different but so familiar. She moves with him seamlessly. He drags her from the wall and wraps his arms around her. Her fingers dig into the new ridges of muscle, sparing a passing thought for the fact that he's grown bigger and stronger and she's barely grown at all. He's all encompassing and she leans into every touch as they frantically try to relearn each other's bodies. When they pull back, she's finally got tears in her eyes. He takes one look and pulls her back against him.

"It's alright," he says and his voice is rough around the unfamiliar words, "I've got you. I'm not going anywhere."


End file.
